


Dangerous

by Alliterative_Albatross



Series: Better Love [8]
Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Angst, Blow Jobs, But they STILL don't know that yet, Ears really needs to learn some spanish, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Javier really needs to teach Ears some spanish, Love Confessions, Oral Sex, Smut, somebody shake these two seriously, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:15:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29742774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliterative_Albatross/pseuds/Alliterative_Albatross
Summary: "Javi, did you wait up?"Javier worries about you.
Relationships: Javier Peña/Reader, Javier Peña/You
Series: Better Love [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073882
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	Dangerous

“Hey.” Javier jolts awake to your voice and the sound of the front door shutting quietly behind you.

“Hey, babe.” Javier grimaces at the roughness of his words, lifts off the sofa just enough to catch a glimpse of the clock in the kitchen. His busted ankle protests at the movement, and Javier hisses beneath his breath.

Dammit, he’d forgotten.

“It’s late,” he observes. He can hear you dropping your keys, pager, and bag on the kitchen counter, catches the edges of your wild curls casting strange shadows on the wall.

“I know.” Javier winces the deadness of your tone. You sound tired. You have for a while now. “Sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t be.” Javier’s breath catches as you come into view. You’re gorgeous - you’re always gorgeous, but exhaustion seems to leak from every pore of you. Your eyes are glossy with it, your shoulders slumped and defeated. Even your vivacious curls seem limp and lackluster.

It worries him.

You catch sight of him, his bad leg all propped up on the arm of the sofa, his naked body wrapped in a throw blanket with a pillow shoved behind his back. “It’s two am,” you admonish, blinking against the lamplight. “Javi, did you wait up?”

Javier shrugs a little. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly up.” He shuffles a little, shoving the manilla evidence folder that he’d fallen asleep pondering over deeper beneath his pillow.

Feo remains an impossible mystery.

Your pinched expression softens into a weak smile. Your eyes are shimmering, your voice quiet. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” Javier shifts his bad leg to the coffee table, moving carefully to avoid jostling his sprained ankle. He opens his arms. “Come here.”

You settle beside him, angling your body so that your feet are folded under you and your head rests on his shoulder. Javier automatically folds an arm around you to draw you nearer, burying his nose in your hair and inhaling the subtle scent of your shampoo. It’s been coconuts lately. He likes it.

“How are you feeling?”

Javier snorts. “Like a man with a sprained ankle. Grouchy and bored out of my fucking mind.”

It draws a soft laugh out of you. Pleased, Javier drops a kiss to your temple. “Tell me about your day?”

Something shifts in you. It’s subtle, but Javier’s made a study of you. He thinks he might know your every gesture now, all of your quirks and all of your tells. You pull away from him just slightly, more of a slow tensing of your muscles than a full-on flinch.

It’s enough for Javier to know that his question makes you uncomfortable. Something falls in his chest.

More of this, then.

You fiddle with a strand of hair, your gaze fallen to your lap. “I got to do something new today,” you admit quietly. You’re still not looking at him.

“Oh?” Javier does his best to keep his tone light and interested. The truth is, dread is starting to coil cold and ominous in his belly. For some reason, you’re hesitant to tell him about this new assignment. “Wanna share with the class?”

You draw back against the opposite arm of the sofa, curling your legs butterfly style beneath you. Your hands go to your toes, but your voice, when you finally speak, is a little more enthusiastic. “Well, I got to do some ground work for Centra Spike.”

Something twists in Javier’s chest. What you’re referencing is far more dangerous that the flyovers that you’ve been doing. In order to triangulate the position of a satellite signal, a separate team has to be on the ground, usually in a nondescript car parked nearby the signal.

The potential for disaster is astronomical.

Javier keeps his voice carefully level. “Where?”

Your eyes fall, and Javier watches you kill the instinct to squirm. “Medellín. Envigado, actually.”

All of the breath leaves Javier’s body in a whoosh. “Envigado,” he breathes, shutting his eyes against the onslaught of cold fear that prickles across his skin. You’d spent all day and part of the night parked in a car in _Envigado._

“If you have something to say, Peña, just say it.”

Javier’s a little taken aback by the irascibility of your tone. It’s not like you at all.

Fine, if you want him to talk, he’ll fucking talk. “I don’t like it,” Javier spits, opening his eyes to meet your gaze. He’s serious about this, and he wants you to know it.

Your arms are folded tightly across your chest. Your eyes are hard, glittering. “What don’t you like?”

Javier clenches his jaw, reminding himself that you’ve worked all day, that you’re exhausted, that you’ve been waiting years for your career to take off like this. He doesn’t want to put a damper on your accomplishments. He takes a deep breath, gathering all of the nervous energy that’s boiling beneath his skin and blowing it away roughly through his nose. He pins you with a dark, desperate stare and softens his voice. “It’s dangerous, baby.”

“Dangerous?” you repeat shrilly, leaping to your feet. “Dangerous?” You pace the living room, gathering your own thoughts, simmering and seething, and Javier regrets his stupid injury for the thousandth time, because he wants nothing more than to pull you tightly to his chest and never let go.

“You know what, Javi?” You whirl on him, your hands on your hips, your eyes flashing. “Life in Colombia is dangerous. That’s just a fact that you’re going to have to accept.”

Javier can’t dispute this at all.

You narrow your eyes, leaning forward to emphasize your argument. It works beautifully. “So it’s a damn good thing that I’m a dangerous fucking woman, right?”

A whirlwind of emotion floods Javier. Anger and frustration that you can’t seem to take the situation seriously. Amusement and deep affection, because you’re adorable. More of that cold fear, because ultimately, his point still stands.

Mostly, though, your words go straight to Javier’s cock. It twitches with interest, and he forces himself to focus, dammit.

This conversation is far from over.

Apparently, you agree. “And you know what else?” you continue, stalking forward with murderous intent in your eyes. Javier can’t help but rear back a bit at your approach. “You are a goddamn hypocrite, Javier Peña.”

“A hypocrite?” All Javier can do is repeat your words, he’s so stunned by them.

You point to his bandaged ankle. “This, Javi. Chasing _sicarios_ across rooftops, gunfights and standoffs. Assassination attempts, for god’s sake.” Your voice breaks, and Javier sees suddenly how much of this you’ve been bottling in, how deeply it’s been affecting you.

“Baby -” Javier protests. He’d stepped wrong off of an uneven stairway in one of the _communas_. Sure, he’d been chasing a suspect, but the circumstances that had led to his injury aren’t nearly as dramatic as you seem to believe.

“And that’s not all.” You cut him off. Now that you’ve started, you can’t seem to stop, all of your concerns spilling from you like air hisses from a popped balloon. “There’s Los Pepes to worry about, too. Yesterday it was a sprained ankle, but what if -” You swallow hard, your eyes darting away. “What if next time -”

Javier’s brain catches up with your words, and now, he nearly does leap to his feet. _“What did you say?”_

You pin him with a glittering, ‘I will accept no bullshit’ glare. “I know, Javi.”

And Javier’s world comes crashing down around his ears. Panic rushes him like ice-water, and he can hardly even form words, just stares at you stupidly, desperate and open-mouthed.

Defeated, you sit heavily beside him on the sofa, hiding your face in your hands.

Javier can’t move, can’t think, can’t breathe.

“I know there’s a leak,” you admit softly, and Javier’s lungs stutter in his chest. He blinks hard, schooling his expression, flexing his fingers to work the blood back into them.

He’d thought the risk of you uncovering his involvement with the cartels was over. Javier’d sworn no more secrets between you, and he’d meant it. Since Arturo had spared his life, the Castaño brothers’ message had been crystal clear. Javier had kept his nose clean, grateful for the opportunity to be free of his own shitty choices. He’d been happy to allow Trujillo to take his place as the dirty cop, had been extra careful when trusting him with sensitive information.

Sure, Javier’s still involved, but at a much more peripheral level.

His relief is short lived. “I’m working on it, okay?” you confess, wringing your hands in your lap, pursing your lips into a tight frown. “They won’t get away with it, Javi. I swear.”

Again, Javier’s world tilts on its axis.

No, no, no. What you’re implying is dangerous in the extreme. In the light of this new information, Javier doesn’t even care if you uncover his own involvement with the vigilantes. It’s bad enough that he allows you to spend time alone in Arturo Delgado’s house.

If you’re investigating Los Pepes on your own…

You shut your eyes and fall into him, bumping his shoulder with your forehead. “Christ, Javi, I just want you safe,” you whisper fiercely. “That’s all I want.”

Suddenly overwhelmed, Javier pulls you into his lap. You come willingly, climbing on top of him and tucking your face into the crook of his neck.

“I’m safe, baby,” Javier vows, dropping a kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “I promise you, you don’t have to worry about those guys.” He wraps his arms around you, tucks his fingers into your curls, palms at your damp, sweaty back in silent reassurance. “We’re taken care of it, _mi reina._ It’s not yours to worry about, okay?”

You look up at him, skepticism clear in your expression, and Javier’s stomach drops.

He catches your face between his palms, forces you to look him in the eyes. “Please, Ears.” Javier’s not one to beg, but for you, he will. “Please. You don’t know what you’re messing with. Leave them alone, baby. They’re not a problem anymore, _te prometo.”_

You hold his gaze for a long moment, and Javier feels like a giant fist is squeezing his heart for the duration, dread and fear and frustration bottling up inside of him, churning ferociously, threatening to combust…

Then your eyes flutter shut. “Okay,” you breathe. Your brow is furrowed in concentration, your body still rigid beneath Javier’s palms.

Javier doesn’t care. He exhales deeply. “Thank you, _mi amada._ Thank you.” He swallows hard against the flood of relief he’s feeling, decides that if you can extend a compromise, then he can, too. “So, tell me about groundwork. Hear anything interesting?”

Again, you tense up. It’s even more profound of a reaction now, and Javier wonders if it’s because he’s again hit a subject that makes you uncomfortable, or if he notices it so much because you’re in his lap.

But then you’re leaning back to shoot him a teasing wink. “Oh, just super secret CIA stuff.”

And Javier would nearly buy it, would let it go, if not for the wild glaze in your eyes, almost a plea.

_Don’t ask, Javi. Don’t press me. Please._

It sends a chill down Javier’s spine.

Javier can pinpoint the exact time of the shift in you. He’d never been comfortable with you spending so much time with Bill Stechner, but in the past two months, you’d disappeared into his office more and more frequently, and your hours had only become less predictable for it. Swapping shifts suddenly, long nights out on assignments that you’re loathe to discuss, a new reluctance to meet Javier’s eyes, as if you’re ashamed.

Or worse, afraid.

But it’s more than that. Lately, you’d seemed uncomfortable. You don’t pick on Javier for grousing about ‘Bill’ anymore. Instead, you avoid mentioning him altogether. You’ve withdrawn, too. Javier often catches you gazing absently into the distance, or more alarmingly, at him, something like sadness or even guilt playing at your eyes.

It claws at Javier. He never wants to see that expression on your face again. Especially not directed at him.

You’ve got that same look now, desperate but distant. Even your body is drawn away from Javier, your head angled away toward back of the sofa, your eyes unfocused, unseeing.

“Hey.” Javier catches your jaw gently, taps at your cheek until you look at him. He reaches to tuck one of those wild curls behind your ear, out of habit and because he knows you find it comforting.

You shudder a little, delicate and fragile beneath his fingers, and suddenly, Javier is desperate to snatch you away from all of this, to grip your hand and yank you toward the nearest flight from Bogotá. Together, the two of you could steal away, escape to some exotic place where you’d never be tracked, where Pablo Escobar and Bill Stechner and Los Pepes and narcoterrorism are nothing but vague memories. Something to laugh about, rather than dread. The temptation to run, to start new life with just him and you, is strong. Profound.

It scares Javier more than he’d like to admit.

He swallows hard.“Is there anything you want to tell me, baby?” His other hand finds yours and squeezes gently. Javier has learned the hard way the slow decay of secrets. He’s still recovering from it, still tiptoeing delicately to avoid the fallout, and he doesn’t wish that burden on you. Never. “I’m listening.”

And suddenly, you seem as if you’ll break. “No,” you whisper, turning your face away, your eyes shimmering wetly.

God, you look like you might cry. Javier almost wishes you would. You’ve got something itching at you. Things that you need to get off your chest.

Javier knows the feeling.

“Okay,” he says gently, trying not to be upset by your obvious lie. He wonders if Stechner’s holding something over on you, and what it could be.

Javier doesn’t like any of it.

You sniffle a little, offering him a wobbly, lopsided smile. It doesn’t touch your eyes. Still, Javier thinks you’re beautiful. Something throbs in his chest as he looks at you, desperation mixed with fierce want and aching affection. You’ve been a mess lately, and Javier doesn’t know how he can fix it if you won’t let him.

“Ears, baby,” his voice works on its own, words falling from him before he can think better of them. “I, I-”

You glance up, wide eyed, and Javier’s breath catches.

“I’m worried.” He redirects himself just in time, swallowing back the massive lump in his throat. His voice is a hoarse whisper, his thumbs automatically playing at your jawline. “I’m so worried about you, baby.”

There. That’s true, too, and much more helpful.

“I know,” you answer softly. You rock against him, grinding your hips in a way that sends a sharp throb of need pulsing in Javier’s core. Javier knows that a small part of you is doing this as a distraction, both for him and for yourself.

He also knows that it’s devastatingly effective.

Javier decides to allow it for tonight. It’s late, and besides, he’s been aching for you all day. Javier grips your hips tightly in his hands. You buck a little at the pressure, and he draws you forward, guiding you in a gentle rhythm, sliding your rough denim over his bare thighs. One hand snakes between your bodies, his thumb working the thick seam of your jeans into the most sensitive part of you.

You gasp gorgeously, throwing your head back to send the ends of your hair tickling at Javier’s opposite wrist.

“So,” Javier growls lowly, breathing little heavier as he feels you writhe against his thumb. He catches the edges of your curls and tugs gently. “How are we going to burn off all of this tension that I’m feeling from you, baby?”

“Javi,” you stutter, exposing your neck and jaw to him, and Javier’s hips hitch at the sound of his name on your lips.

God, he loves hearing you call his name. It’s what had first broken him, that terrible day that he’d nearly lost you. You say it reverently, intimately, like an invocation. Javier takes the opportunity to ravage the delicate skin above your throat, stopping just short of leaving a mark. As blurred as the lines are in Colombia, he’s reluctant to display irrefutable evidence of your relationship for all to see.

Some things are best kept private, after all.

Eagerly, Javier unbuttons your blouse, revealing your soft skin, your perky breasts. He buries his face between them as he reaches to unhook your bra, a simple, black, silky thing that he had bought for you.

The memory burns in him, the thought of providing for you, of taking care of you urging him on. It simmers down his core and engorges in his cock, and Javier angles first to suck at the curved edge of one breast, and then the other, smiling against the heat of your skin as you gasp at the sensation.

You retaliate by dragging your fingers down his bare chest, still grinding against him, pinching gently at his nipples, then slowing to palm at his belly - Javier will never understand your fascination with that, but he’s not sorry - and then continuing down to tease the soft thatch of hair at the base of his cock. You wrap your fingers around him and _squeeze_ , and Javier jerks into your grip, suddenly breathless with need.

 _“Tus manos son el cielo,”_ he gasps, his words hitching with his stammering breaths. Javier gathers you closer, wrapping his hands at the base of your neck and pulling you down for a wild, desperate kiss.

You crash into his mouth with a low groan, your tongue delving deeply into him, and Javier bites at your lower lip, not in chastisement, but as if his teeth could claim you, mark you as his own.

But then, just as Javier is ready to rip off your jeans and bury himself home, you stiffen and pull away. Still panting heavily, you look at him guilty, shame burning hot in your cheeks.

Javier feels his desire ebb at your expression. “What is it, _mi amada?”_ He brings his palms to your neck, stroking at your jawline with his thumbs _. “Qué te molesta?”_

“I don’t deserve you,” you announce suddenly. Your breath hitches, and you whip away from him, staring at the floor rather than into Javier’s eyes.

Wait, what?

Javier sucks a sharp breath, his rhythm faltering. “Baby,” he whispers hoarsely, without a second though. “You deserve the world.” 

Javier doesn’t know what it is about you that seems to pull the honesty from him, yanks the maelstrom of his emotions to the surface of his thoughts, but tonight, he doesn’t care.

Tonight is about you.

Javier grips your arms, his thumbs pressing deeply into the soft hollow of your shoulders. He drops his face into the crook of your neck, plants a soft kiss at the edge of your clavicle. “And I wish I could give it to you,” he rasps into your skin.

You tremble at his words, and Javier busies himself with pouring everything that he can’t quite say into his attentions, ravishing you with his lips, his teeth, his tongue.

You groan, angling into his thigh, seeking friction, and Javier can feel how wet you are, your dampness leaking warm through the thick denim of your jeans. Suddenly, he’s desperate to taste you, to bury himself deep into your fluttering core and wring your pleasure from you with his fingers and tongue.

“Turn around.”

Your breath catches, but you obey, clambering to the opposite side of the sofa and shucking your jeans, offering yourself to him.

And god, you’re beautiful like this, too, exposed with your ass in the air, your delicate pink folds already swollen and slick with need for him, just waiting for Javier’s touch.

 _“Déjame devorarte, mi reina,”_ Javier breathes, and then he loses himself, lapping at you, delving deeply into your most intimate parts, licking and sucking and nipping gently at your edges.

You’ve never been one to miss an opportunity, though. Your hands catch his erection greedily, and you rock back on your elbows, simultaneously pressing your cunt into Javier’s face and wrapping your lips tightly around his head. Pleasure explodes in Javier’s brain, and he can’t help arching into you, a full body contraction that slides him further into your mouth and forces his tongue deeper into the gentle ridges of your sex.

Each of you gasp. Javier’s heart swells at the soft sounds of your pleasure, and he loses himself in worshipping your body and being worshipped in return. Your lips curl perfectly around him, hot and wet and achingly delicious. It only serves to stoke the fire that licks at Javier’s core. Your tongue laps at his sensitive head, your hands working at his base, and Javier hums appreciatively into your folds as you slide him home. It becomes a game, a back and forth cat and mouse - you rocking into him, him curling to chase you as you take him deeper, a competition of who breaks first.

Javier’s entire lower half is throbbing, his hands scrabbling desperately at your hips and ass as he focuses all of his attention toward your pleasure. His entire body is wound tight, his muscles clenched in eager anticipation, but he holds off, holds off, holds off, his toes curling, his breath panting at the strain of it.

He’s not going to lose this battle. Not tonight.

Javier wraps his lips around your sensitive bud and sucks hard, his fingers simultaneously curling deep within you. You gasp roughly around him, your entire body jolting at the apex of your release, and Javier’s eyes roll shut as the first of your spasms flutter around him. He’s won, eked your orgasm from you by the skin of his teeth, and now you’re clenching gorgeously around his fingers and tongue. He laps you up eagerly, reveling in each pulse of your innermost muscles as he works you through your high, savoring every tangy drop of you as you fall apart above him.

But your lips are still locked tightly around him, each breathy sigh and moan sending a shockwave of sensation rocketing through Javier’s core until suddenly, he’s falling, too. Javier barely has enough warning to yank himself free from you, your teeth scraping devastatingly painful against his sensitive shaft as he withdraws from your mouth.

He doesn’t want to choke you.

Javier works himself through the aftershocks with his fist, spurting wave after wave of delicious relief onto his belly, his mind blinking on and off, on and off. He’s vaguely aware of you collapsing onto him, hot and boneless and trembling, and then rolling to the side, still panting heavily.

You lay that way for a long time, shuddering, recovering. Javier can hardly distinguish what body belongs to who - both of you are breathless, panting, trembling in the aftermath.

Eventually, he comes back to himself enough to notice that you’re giving him an excellent view of your ass. Javier can’t help but nip at it affectionately.

You giggle breathlessly against his bare knees. “Javi,” you whine brokenly, your voice still thready and rasping, and Javier’s lips curl into a lazy, satisfied smile. It must have been good if you’re still unable to protest his teasing.

He tugs insistently at your shoulder, beckoning without words. Awkwardly, you shuffle, flipping around so that you’re facing him. Javier gathers you to his chest, and you nuzzle into that space at hollow of his throat where you fit so perfectly.

Javier sighs in blissful contentment. This is right. This is perfect. Again, he buries his nose in your hair, inhaling deeply.

 _You, you, you, you._ It’s all Javier can think, all he knows.

You lay that way for a long time, just breathing, just being.

“Javi?” you begin muzzily, stirring Javier from the fuzziness of slumber.

“What, baby?” Javier murmurs absently. One hand comes to card through the hair that lies against your naked back.

Christ, Javier loves your hair.

“I wonder where Pablo gets his guns,” you muse tiredly. The fingers that have been stroking gently against Javier’s ribs still, and his mind sharpens just barely at the loss of sensation.

Javier grunts protestation. It’s such a random question for you to ask, but he knows better than to ignore you.

You aren’t stupid, after all.

“Dunno,” he mutters, something niggling at the back of his mind. Javier pushes it aside for later. He’s thoroughly spent, exhausted and given out.

“Just seems like something to think about.” Your thumb comes to dance at the edge of Javier’s jaw, and he sighs, closes his eyes.

“You know, if you took his guns out of the picture,” you continue in a soft whisper. Javier leans against your cheek, reveling in the softness of your skin against his. “That would probably really suck for Pablo.”

Javier hums. An absent, distant part of him notes that it’s a good thought. One that he will definitely be exploring, once his higher brain blinks back online. Probably tomorrow. “Brilliant girl,” he murmurs, pressing a wet kiss into your temple. _“Dama perfecta, te quiero. Te quiero mucho.”_

“Yeah,” you breathe against him. Your voice is thick with exhaustion, toying just at the edge of sleep, and part of Javier revels in it, that he’s responsible for exhausting you so thoroughly. “Sure, Javi. Sure.”

* * *

Javier wakes squinting against the brilliant morning sun as it filters though the living room window.

He stirs, noting the silence that suffuses the apartment, the awkward crick in his neck, the sticky itch on his bare belly.

He’d slept on the sofa, and you’re already gone.

Something clicks in his brain, some nagging, lingering thought.

Hadn’t you mentioned something about weapons?

Javier bolts upright, completely heedless of his throbbing ankle, scrabbling desperately for the file that he’d snuck from headquarters when nobody had been looking.

He checks his information again and again, running it though this new angle, exploring it from the context that you’d murmured into his ear last night.

Oh, god. Oh, god.

“How the fuck did you get this?” Javier wonders aloud. He’s been slaving over this puzzle for months, and here you are, absently offering him the key to all of his problems on a golden platter, lazy and limp from sex.

Christ, you’re brilliant.

Javier leaps from the sofa, limps to the phone that’s mounted in the hallway. He dials Steve’s extension with trembling fingers.

“I think Feo’s running guns,” he blurts as the call connects.

There’s a long silence while Steve processes the information. Part of Javier is satisfied by the wait. If this intel is a shock to Steve, then Javier is justified. He’s not an idiot after all.

“Oh my god,” Steve breathes finally, his words crackling in Javier’s ear. Javier shuts his eyes in relief. “How’d you get this information?”

“It just came to me,” Javier answers. Or rather, he’d come for it. Same difference, really. Javier doesn’t want to say more over the phone. Life in Colombia has made him paranoid. There’s no telling who might be listening in.

He wouldn’t put it past Stechner, for one.

“Thanks, Javi,” Steve answers finally. Javier can sense his excitement through the line, his eagerness to get off the phone and examine the intel with this new development in mind. “That’s pretty good.”

“Sure, Steve.” Guilt churns in Javier’s gut. He wishes he could credit you for the discovery, knows better than to even mention it.

The call ends with a sharp click, and Javier leans back against the wall, shutting his eyes so tightly that he sees stars.

What the hell are you getting yourself into?

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, man. We are fast approaching the apex of this story. Dangerous concludes all of the plot pieces that I needed to have in place before I can start posting If I Fall. There might be some fluff and smut to fill in the bits in-between, but dammit, guys, the board is set and the pieces are moving.
> 
> (major kudos if you get that reference)
> 
> If Ears seems a little tense and out of character here, know that I’ve done that on purpose. She’s burned out and stressed to the max, and this will absolutely play a role in If I Fall.
> 
> Holy mother fucking shit, guys, I am intimidated beyond words by what comes next. I appreciate all of your love and support for this series. It absolutely keeps me going.
> 
> Much love and soft hugs,
> 
> Jay


End file.
